


There Goes Your Social Life

by Chash



Series: Butt Crazy In Love [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5856064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is finally dating Bellamy Blake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Goes Your Social Life

It's not Clarke's first time waking up in Bellamy's arms, but it is her first time doing it in a bed, because they both purposefully went to sleep together. It's her first time waking up in one of his t-shirts, his face pressed into her hair, her back pressed up against his bare chest, her body pleasantly achy from unaccustomed exercise.

It's her first time dating Bellamy Blake.

She shifts around in his arms as carefully as she can, trying not to wake him. He makes a soft noise, stirs a little, but he's still asleep when she curls back against him, smiling into his chest.

Clarke has not been in love with Bellamy for seven years, because she was thirteen when she met him, and she didn't know how to be in love with him yet. She had a crush on him basically from day one, because he was sixteen and handsome, and he was--not _nice_ to her, not exactly. Clarke is a sucker for affection, but Bellamy hadn't just been kind to her.

He'd treated her like a person, like an equal, from the beginning, and that was why she'd liked him. She was so used to people her parents knew being patronizing and kind of condescending, seeing her as a child, and for all Bellamy was in high school and seemed older than that a lot of the time, he never made her feel young or stupid. They bickered and teased each other and sometimes got in actual _fights_ , but not because Clarke was thirteen. Just because that's how they were.

She'd liked him easily and naturally, almost as a separate part of her life. She still had school, her own friends, an entire world that never interacted with Bellamy Blake at all. She got crushes on boys in her class, and then girls, and it didn't stop her liking him too. He was different. Her feelings for him didn't feel like real life.

High school made it a little more complicated, because Octavia was there, and Bellamy asked Clarke to look out for her. 

"We worked so hard to get her into that school," he said. He looked exhausted, wrung out; Clarke knew he worked two jobs over the summer, as well as helping her dad out, just to bring in money for his mom. "None of her friends are gonna be there. So--"

"I'm looking forward to meeting her," Clarke said, and she meant it. And she loved Octavia in her own right, but it was strange, having someone else who knew about Bellamy, someone who talked about him. He wasn't this secret person no one else got anymore; he was her friend's brother, and _all_ their friends had a crush on him. 

But she was the only one who got to hang out with him.

She thinks she was probably in love with him before the night with Finn, but that was when she _knew_. Because it should be such a _bad_ memory. It had been such a bad night. Octavia had a crush on Finn, Clarke was trying to fix them up, but despite her best efforts, he'd ended up driving her home, instead of taking O. And then he'd tried to kiss her, and she'd punched him so hard she nearly broke his nose when he pulled over to let her out of the car.

She'd been so pissed she'd barely been able to use her phone, trying to find the contact info for a cab, when the mugger showed up, and that she honestly might have tried to punch him too, if he didn't have a gun. Clarke was angry and generally competent in a fight, but she wasn't _stupid_.

The adrenaline wore off at all once, after the guy left and she was alone and felt--not _better_ , but at least like she could take her next steps, even as she was exhausted and wrung out and--scared, honestly. She didn't know where she was, didn't have any money, and she had to get home.

And she had a lot of options. That's what she really remembers, most clearly, from that moment. She was cold and frightened and she could have called her parents, or called the police, or tried to walk to the train and talk the driver into letting her on for free. She could have tried to talk a taxi into accepting cash on arrival.

But she had called Bellamy because Bellamy was the person she wanted to see, the person she trusted to come, and to help, and to _help_. Bellamy was the one who she knew would make the situation _better_.

She didn't realize she loved him when she called, even though the sound of his voice answering the phone hit her so hard she felt like she might fall over, didn't realize it when he showed up, draped his coat over her shoulders, smiled at her. Didn't realize when he held her in the back of the car, or on the couch.

It wasn't until she woke up in his arms, his smile gentle, that Clarke thought, _Oh_.

She didn't have a crush; she wasn't just going to get over him. It might not work out, he might not ever feel the same, but how she felt about Bellamy wasn't like anything she'd ever felt before, and so that night is one of her favorite memories, because he's in it, and she knew he loved her too. Maybe not the same way, but--in a good way. For real.

Her fingers twitch against his chest, involuntary. _Hers_. He's hers.

"Hey," she hears him murmur, voice rough from sleep. "Please don't be having second thoughts." The suggestion is so absurd that she laughs aloud, almost giddy, and he laughs himself and tugs her in. "Cool, thought not. Morning."

"Morning," she says, pressing her lips to his neck. "Sleep well?"

He laughs again. "No. Not to be a fucking creeper, but I kept staring at you."

"Total creeper."

"Right?" His hand trails up her back, under her shirt, making her shiver a little. "Are you hungry? We might have food."

"You never have food on Saturdays. Your fridge is just peanut butter and shit you haven't thrown away yet."

"It's shopping day." He pauses. "I wonder if Miller's actually never coming back."

"Send him a picture of us fully dressed and not making out."

"Yeah, but if I do that, he might come back and expect us to be fully dressed and not making out. I'm not sure I'm ready to commit to that yet."

Clarke laughs, finally leans up to kiss him again. His mouth is stale and tastes like sleep, but his hands are warm as they pull her closer, and his body is firm and broad and welcoming.

"I'll text him later," he says, and rolls on top of her.

*

Miller calls Bellamy just after eleven, while he's making grilled cheese for lunch, and Clarke picks up the phone.

"Hey, Miller."

"Hey, Griffin. Took you two long enough."

"He's worth waiting for. You can probably come home, by the way. We're both wearing pants and he's cooking, so you've got like a forty-minute window before we start making out again."

Miller snorts. "I'm at CVS, I'm buying one of those spray bottles like you use to keep pets off furniture. You need anything else? Don't say condoms."

"I think we're set on condoms. But it's nice of you to look out for us."

There's a pause, and then Miller says, "I'm not saying I'm worried, I know you really like him. But--you're it for him. You get that, right? Not saying you shouldn't go out with him, you should. But he's--"

"I know," Clarke says. "I am too."

"Cool. Good. But spray bottle, seriously. I'm gonna condition you guys."

"I'm glad you have a plan for this."

"I've had emergency protocols set up since we moved in together," he says. "I'll be back in like twenty minutes."

Clarke leans against Bellamy's side, smiles when he kisses her hair. This part isn't really new, not exactly. Bellamy will always return any affection she gives him. But it's so much better now.

"Is he coming back?"

"Yeah. He says he's gonna buy a spray bottle to keep us from making out on the furniture."

He snorts. "Like I've never caught him and Monty hooking up on the couch."

"Maybe you can borrow the spray bottle."

He laughs, ducks his head to kiss her again. When he pulls back, he has this look of wonder that Clarke isn't telling him to fuck off, and she doesn't quite know how what to say to that. There was a part of her that always felt sure she'd get him. It wouldn't be fair, if she didn't. It just seemed _stupid_ , if she loved him this much, and he didn't feel the same. And it hurts a little, thinking about him pining away and _not_ thinking that.

"How did you not know?" she asks, bumping his shoulder.

"Huh?"

"Everyone I've ever met knows I'm in love with you. How did you think I wasn't?"

He laughs. "I didn't--it's not like that." He bites his lip, not looking at her. "I honestly didn't think about it that much. I figured--I'd just feel better once we talked about it."

Clarke has to laugh. "That's it?"

"What?"

"Your big fantasy for hooking up with me was talking about it and you'd feel better? Come on."

He laughs too, catching on. "Okay, no, that's two different things." She raises her eyebrows, and he inclines his head, shrugging one shoulder. "There was what I realistically thought would happen and, uh--a very long list of things I wanted to do with you. But that was--just fantasies, yeah. Not real." When she just gapes at him, he sighs, leans down and pecks her mouth. "It felt unfair, okay?"

"What did?"

"Telling you. That's why I didn't think about it." He flips the sandwiches, which are burning a little. "If O had told me when she was in high school that she wanted to date some college guy, and keep dating him once she started college because they lived in the same place, I would have told her it was a bad idea, no matter who the guy was. College is a big deal. A lot of stuff changes, you make all these new friends, you find out more about yourself. I would have told her to wait, give herself some room to figure it out. It would've been shitty of me to tell you not to do that just because _I_ wanted to be the guy dating you. So, yeah. I was waiting. And hoping."

Clarke laughs. "You did tell me not to date college kids a lot."

"I wasn't just jealous. That was genuine, fraternal advice. High-quality."

"Bellamy," she says, groaning. "You're my boyfriend. I've been in love with you since I was seventeen. Please never say anything you do to me is fraternal."

He puts her sandwich onto a plate and hands it over with a grin. "Don't worry, nothing ever has been." He waits until they're on the couch with their food to ask, "Since you were seventeen?"

"Oh god, don't be offended. I had a crush on you before that."

"I wasn't offended, just egotistical. Tell me all about how you had a huge crush on me. I want all the details."

"Come on, you were hot and cool and didn't treat me like some tag-along kid. Of course I had a dumb crush on you. And then it stopped being dumb and stopped being a crush. I don't know exactly when it happened, but--I was seventeen when I noticed."

"Huh." She bumps his shoulder, and he grins. "That makes me feel a lot better, honestly. I figured you met me and fell instantly and completely in love and no one else--" She shoves him, and he laughs. "Seriously. I should have known you'd be the kid who thought _Yeah, this guy is cute and all, but I'm thirteen, I'm not going to marry him_."

"I'm a realist," says Clarke. "It was way later when I decided I was going to marry you."

He chokes on his sandwich, which is gratifying, and Clarke snuggles into his side and turns on the TV.

They are making out a little when Miller gets back, but it really is just a little. And by the time he's gotten back from filling his spray bottle, they're sitting side-by-side again, Clarke's feet in Bellamy's lap, but no kissing. Miller snorts and flops down next to them. 

"Please tell me you have a single next year," he tells Clarke, by way of greeting.

"You want me to make Bellamy come all the way to Medford to get laid?"

"I go to Medford to get laid all the time. At least Bellamy's got a car."

"I do have a single next year," she confirms. "But I'm staying with my parents over the summer, so--"

"Your parents love Bellamy."

"Her dad loves me," Bellamy corrects. "Her mom has resigned herself to me."

Clarke pats his arm. "Anyway. There's a difference between liking him and wanting him to sleep over."

"Where do they think you are now?" Bellamy asks, as if it's only just occurring to him. It probably is; he was very distracted last night. Clarke can be incredibly distracting when she wants to be.

"They know where I am. I've slept over here plenty, it's not like it's new."

"Oh yeah," Bellamy says to Miller. "Clarke's mom has thought we're dating for three years."

"Yeah, we all thought that," says Miller. "She's not special or anything." He kicks Bellamy's foot gently. "Can you disengage from Clarke long enough to go shopping, or am I gonna starve to death?"

"You'd survive at least a week without food. You're tough." He presses his lips against Clarke's hair. "You want a ride home before or after shopping?"

"I'm going home?" she asks, raising her eyebrows at Miller.

"Just close the door when you have sex," he says, and when Clarke offers her fist, he bumps it.

*

She spends the weekend hanging around Bellamy's apartment in his pajamas, since she didn't think to grab any clothes aside from her fancy dress when they left the party. He takes her home on Sunday night, and they make out in his car for ten minutes before she finally manages to drag herself away.

"We can do this later," she points out, and he grins.

"Yeah, but I want to do it _now_."

"I'll bring a change of clothes to work tomorrow," she says. "And come by after I'm done."

"Uh huh," he says, and kisses her again. "I love you."

He hasn't said it since the first night, and it sends a thrill through Clarke, like electricity, hearing it again. It's her new favorite thing. "I love you too," she says, giving him one last lingering kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Her dad is at the dining room table, pouring over papers, and Clarke leans in to hug him. "Hey, I'm home."

"I know you said you were coming back, but I didn't really believe you," he remarks, dry. 

"I didn't bring a toothbrush. Bad planning, I know."

"You didn't tell me your mother thought you were already dating him. She thought he'd proposed."

Clarke laughs. "Proposed? Really?"

"Apparently, you seemed very, very happy. I listened to her telling me you were too young to get married for five minutes before I figured it out."

"I would have told her, but I didn't really want to start a discussion of my love life with her. And, honestly, I don't think I could ever say I don't want to date Bellamy and have anyone believe me."

"You're a pretty good liar, but not that good," he agrees. "Nice outfit."

"I didn't bring clothes either," Clarke says, looking down at the t-shirt and basketball shorts she borrowed from Bellamy. "He thinks you approve. He better be right."

Jake snorts. "Don't tell me you need my approval to date him."

"I don't, but he might. You mean a lot to him."

"Then I'll set aside my general distaste for parents telling their adult children what to do in their personal lives to tell you I approve." He smiles at her. "He's a nice kid, and you two have always been good for each other." He kisses her hair. "I'm glad you figured it out. But you need a shower."

"Thanks, Dad."

She's on her way to the bathroom when she runs into her mother. Clarke loves her mother, she does, but they've never been as close as Clarke and her father. It would have been easy to feel neglected with a doctor and a lawyer for parents, and Jake had been the one who'd worked from home, who'd been sure to make time for Clarke. She knows how lucky she is, to have two parents who love her and will provide for her. She's not ungrateful or bitter. She just doesn't feel like she knows her mother like she knows her father.

"Dad said you thought I was dating Bellamy," she says, careful, when Abby just raises her eyebrows at Clarke's outfit. "Or, um--before. That I was dating him before. I'm dating him now."

"The two of you certainly gave every indication of being close."

"We are close." She tucks her hair back. "I love him," she says. "So--if this was you being nice to him? I'd like it if you could be nicer."

Abby's jaw ticks. "I like him," she says, and sounds like she means it. "He's a smart, driven young man. And I know how much he cares about you. But you're awfully young to be--" She sighs. "I don't know if you've ever really seen anyone else, since you met him. And I can't help worrying about that."

Clarke can't help a surprised laugh, although she does feel bad. Abby clearly means well, and she really does seem concerned. "Sorry," she says, biting back on her smile. "It's just--that's the exact same thing Bellamy was worried about."

"Was it?" Abby asks, but she looks amused.

"He's got Octavia. I think he just ran everything through his _If Octavia was doing this would I worry?_ filter, and he was waiting until he wouldn't." She bites her lip. "I've dated other people. He's not my first and only boyfriend. But--I've never felt like this any of the other times."

"Then I'm glad the two of you worked it out," she says, with a real smile. "I've never disapproved, Clarke. I just wished you'd met him later."

It makes a strange sort of sense, but Clarke can't bring herself to say she understands, because--her life is just _better_. With Bellamy in it.

"We did start dating on _Friday_ ," she reminds her mother, instead of really responding. "Just remember that. It's still new."

Abby doesn't look convinced, and Clarke can't really argue with that either. It is new, but--it's not, at the same time. It's not like she's dated anyone in a while. And he hasn't either. Clarke's been hanging out at his apartment more and more this summer; she thinks they both knew they were on the brink.

"Well, you should invite him to dinner," Abby says, brisk. "I'll work on showing that I like him."

Clarke gives her a hug too, for good measure. "Thanks, Mom."

*

Clarke is working for the Art History department over the summer, digitizing various archives with Monty. He doesn't directly comment on her upgraded relationship status, but he does give her a high-five, which she figures means he's heard and is happy for her. She texts Bellamy a normal amount during her shift, which means every ten minutes or so, and it's all basically the same, except for the number of heart emoji she uses, which has drastically increased.

He's doing an internship at some giant law firm, making enough money it actually freaks him out, and as usual, he has to work a little late.

 _I'll get takeout and make Miller let me in_ , she tells him, and he texts back, _Just hang out? I'll come by campus on my way home. I can buy you dinner. Somewhere with tablecloths._

"Your face is going to freeze like that," Monty teases, and Clarke sticks her tongue out. She's allowed to smile a lot.

_You're such a good boyfriend. I'll be at the coffee shop._

It seems like a perfectly safe place to wait, but then as soon as she walks in, Bellamy's girlfriend is there.

She knows it's fucked up, to still think of Gina as Bellamy's girlfriend, especially now that _she's_ his girlfriend. The two of them dated for a few months, two years ago. They broke up. It was _Clarke's fault_ that they broke up. But Gina is the only girl Bellamy ever introduced to her as a girlfriend, the only person Clarke knows that he _dated_.

She hadn't been jealous that he hooked up, but she'd been jealous of Gina, this cute, smart girl who got to curl into Bellamy's side and kiss him whenever she wanted.

But Clarke gets to do that now. Clarke was always going to get to do that, because Bellamy was in love with her, when he dated Gina.

She is an asshole. There's no world where she was the wronged party in this.

Gina looked up at the sound of the bell and clearly recognized Clarke, so it would be weird if she fled. They barely knew each other two years ago. There's no reason she can't buy a coffee from her.

"Hi," she says. The place is deserted, just her luck. There's no line and nothing for Gina to be doing.

"Hey. Clarke, right?"

"Yeah. Nice to see you again, Gina." Gina raises her eyebrows, and Clarke flushes.

Thankfully, she grins before Clarke can try to correct herself or anything weird. "Sorry, I'm just finding the etiquette of this situation funny."

Clarke lets out a huff of laughter. "No problem. Should I apologize for having a thing for your boyfriend two years ago? I can."

"That wasn't really the problem, it was that he had a thing for you." Her smile is teasing. "That's not news, right?"

"No, not news."

"How long have you guys been dating?"

"Three days. He's supposed to come pick me up for dinner here, but I can tell him to relocate if you want."

Gina laughs, shaking her head with a rueful smile. "Three days," she repeats. "What are you drinking?"

"Just coffee? Black, medium."

Gina nods, pours it and slides the cup over. When Clarke tries to pay, Gina shakes her head. "On the house. I can't believe it took you guys two years."

Clarke puts the cash into the tip jar instead. "So this is _you're romantically inept_ pity coffee?"

"Kind of."

She tucks her hair back. "I am, um--I'm sorry. I was kind of a dick for calling him."

Gina shrugs. "We weren't that serious. It didn't break my heart or anything. And it's not like I hadn't noticed he was different with you. We broke up, I let my friends buy me ice cream and tell me he was a jerk who didn't deserve me, it was fine. Sometimes I see him at parties and he buys me drinks from residual guilt, that's cool."

"Yeah, Bellamy is definitely your guy for residual guilt," Clarke says. "I'm probably going to be done after this. Next time I see you I'm not gonna feel weird at all."

"To be fair, you didn't date me."

"No, but I totally would have, you're cute. He just got there first."

She really _is_ cute; she laughs, ducks her head, smiles at Clarke like she really isn't holding a grudge. Not that Clarke's surprised, exactly, but--she'd always wondered, a little bit. Bellamy had acted like it wasn't a big deal, but he wouldn't have told her if they had a horrific, screaming breakup. She couldn't help wondering if it was awful. "Well, if you guys ever break up, you can give me a call," she says, and Clarke texts Bellamy a selfie of the two of them, both to freak him out and give him some warning about what he's walking into.

He shows up about ten minutes after that, while Clarke and Gina are chatting about the grad-school program Gina is starting in the fall and her current boyfriend, since Clarke and Bellamy's _how we got together_ story doesn't actually take that long. Although it is pretty cute, if she does say so herself. The casual reveal that her mom thought they were already together really freaked him out.

"I guess I don't need to buy you a coffee, huh?" Bellamy asks, giving Gina an embarrassed smile.

"She didn't even charge me, so--" Clarke bumps her shoulder against his, companionable. "She might be taking advantage of you."

"Yeah, I'm a sucker. How have you been?" he asks Gina, friendly, and they do the same quick catch-up. It's--nice, in a limited way. It wasn't like she'd been carrying a ton of guilt about Bellamy's treatment of his only ex, but it still feels good. She doesn't have to stop coming to this coffee shop. She could come more. Gina's cool.

"So, tablecloths, huh?" she asks, on the way to his car. "That's pretty classy."

"I'm a classy guy," he says, hooking his fingers in her belt loops and pulling her in for a warm kiss. "Hey," he murmurs. "How was work?"

"Boring," she says. "Monty made fun of me." She toys with the curls at the base of his neck. "Do you really want to take me out to dinner?"

"We gotta eat." He kisses her again. "This stops, right?" he asks, his grin huge. "We're in the honeymoon phase. I'm gonna stop being this ridiculous at some point."

"You're always ridiculous. Sorry." 

"I want to take you out to dinner. We're going on at least one real date. I totally had fantasies about taking you out on real dates. I was gonna romance you."

"I'm romanced," she says. "But I guess I can let you take me out to dinner. Once."

"You're so nice to me." He brushes his nose against hers. "Staying over tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

*

Waking up with Bellamy is less good when her alarm goes off at 7:30 and she has to go to work. Mostly because getting up at 7:30 is bad enough without having to also make herself leave him.

"This is not fair," she tells his collarbone.

"You're the one who's making me wake up early," he grumbles. "I don't get up until 8:15." He kisses her hair anyway. "At least I got laid."

"That's the spirit." She sighs and rolls out of bed. "You know you can go back to bed, right?"

"Not really. Once I'm awake, I can never get back to sleep," he says, standing and stretching himself. Clarke lets herself watch his back, and then his chest, and he grins. "You're gonna have to set your alarm earlier if you want to look at me like that." He gives her a real kiss, albeit a short one. "But I'll make you breakfast."

"You know if you feed me, I'm never going to go away."

"I know," he says, and Clarke smiles and follows him into the kitchen. He makes her breakfast and kisses her before she goes to work and she grins up at him; the honeymoon phase will end at some point, but she's going to enjoy the hell out of it until it does.

"I could really get used to this," she says, giving him one more kiss.

His smile is still just the tiniest bit incredulous, like she might disappear on him. "You should. You're always welcome."

"You say that now," she teases, but she knows he means it. She knows she _is_.

This is exactly what she's going to get used to.


End file.
